


Work Clothes

by MathConcepts



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Nerdanel is done, Silly little Drabble, feanor being a little shit, the peanut gallery is Maedhros and co
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-20 14:24:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18994399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MathConcepts/pseuds/MathConcepts
Summary: Feanor and Nerdanel flirt in their own way Or: Why Feanor wore the elvish equivalent of jeans and sneakers to the Valar's fancy party.





	Work Clothes

"I will not go." Feanor said. Nerdanel pursed her lips, staring at her husband.  
  
"You don't have a choice." she informed him matter-of-factly. "They have asked for your presence at the feast, and you and I both know that it is not a request that can be refused."  
  
Feanor shook his head, his black hair flailing over his shoulders.  
  
"Watch me." he said.    
  
"Do you wish to be exiled for another twelve years? Put aside your pride and go." Nerdanel urged calmly.  
  
"This has nothing to do with my pride." Feanor objected. Nerdanel gave him a look that said that knew much better.  
  
"You are going." she said firmly.   
  
"I am not." Feanor declared vehemently.   
  
"The king would want you to go." Nerdanel retorted. At the mention of his father, Feanor's head snapped up, his eyes flaming. He despised his father being used as an incentive.

Any other person would have been daunted by the look in his eyes, but Nerdanel simply scoffed. So many years, and so many sons had rendered her immune to Feanor's temper.   
  
"Go." she said. "Or I'll bind you and send you there on a cart."   
  
Now it was Feanor's turn to scoff.   
  
"You would do no such thing." he said.   
  
"Oh, I would. And knowing you, you would like it." Nerdanel said caustically. A titter of disgust came from behind, and Nerdanel glanced over her shoulder at the seven heads that were peeking around the doorway she had her back to.  
  
Feanor eyed her for a moment, then his eyes darted behind her, to rest on his sons.   
  
"Very well. I'll go." he conceded, intentionally forcing out the words as if he was chewing on something bitter. But Nerdanel cared very little for her husband's dramatics.  
  
"I have your garments laid out in your chambers." she said.   
  
But Feanor was determined to be difficult.   
  
"I'm not changing my clothes."   
  
Praying to the Valar to renew her rapidly diminishing patience, Nerdanel addressed her husband as one might address a petulant child.  
  
"It is a feast. You cannot attend a feast wearing an apron."   
  
Feanor met her eyes, and there was a challenge in his gaze.   
  
"Fine. Fine." he said, throwing down the hammer he held, his hands going to the ties of his apron. "I'll take these clothes off. I won't go in these clothes." he unfastened the knots that held the apron to him, and tossed it to the side, where it crumpled over the hammer. His thin shirt was next, he yanked it off and added it to the growing pile on the floor.   
  
"I won't wear these clothes." he repeated. "But I won't put on any other ones, so I suppose I will be attending the feast naked." his hands fell to his trousers, yanking at the laces, and as one, Maedhros and Curufin dared from the doorway, grabbing their father's hands.   
  
"No, no. Let him, I don't mind." Nerdanel said, her eyes raking the length of Feanor's body. "I don't mind in the slightest." Maedhros and Curufin groaned, backing away from Feanor.   
  
Nerdanel grinned impishly, looking at her eldest.   
  
"If you wish to know why you have so many brothers, it is because of actions such as these on your father's part." she informed him. Maedhros gave her a nonplussed stare, and scurried away, muttering under his breath, with Curufin following.  
  
Nerdanel returned her gaze to her husband.   
  
"Feanor." she said warningly. Feanor shrugged, his eyes taking on an innocent glaze, and Nerdanel sighed.   
  
"Very well, wear what you please." she said grudgingly, picking up her chisel and turning away to hack into a chunk of rough granite. Feanor laughed triumphantly, and without looking, Nerdanel flung her chisel at him, smiling when she heard it connect.    
  
Feanor came up behind her, and Nerdanel could hear the patter of feet as their sons made themselves scarce.   
  
But she only smiled more.  
  
  



End file.
